Of Falling Stars,Broken Suns,and Chained Wolves
by Ninrien
Summary: An (AU) retelling of the Year of the False Spring, the Tourney at Harrenhal and Robert's Rebellion. Ashara/Ned. Elia/Arthur. Lyanna/Rhaegar. Slight Brandon/Catelyn.
1. Ashara: Storm

**Disclaimer: All rights belong to George R.R. Martin- I own nothing.**

**Reviews would be appreciated-suggestions for improvement and criticism are always much just drop me a review to tell me what you think.**

**Ashara: Storm**

It was raining in King's Landing, a constant unceasing downpour which had started up two days ago and had shown no signs of stopping since except for a slight decrease in intensity the night before. Comfortably ensconced in a leaf-patterned armchair in her large room in Maegor's Holdfast, Ashara Dayne watched the storm, her lips upturned slightly in the smallest and most serene of smiles.

The distinctive smell of rain wafted to her through the open glass window which took up much of one of the walls in her room. The fireplace next to it was lit and held a merry, crackling fire which warmed the room to such a heat that the feverish chill which she had had yesterday seemed like a faint year-old memory.

The fire had been lit late last night and then rebuilt early in the morning at the behest of Arthur Dayne, her brother. He sat with her now in the matching armchair which along with the writing desk and chair sitting in a corner underneath the window, and a fair sized cupboard in the opposite corner of the room made up all the furnishings in the chamber apart from the bed.

Ashara's smile grew wider and turned into an outright laugh as she recollected the way in which Arthur had hurried a trio of servingmen into her room, each carrying an oversized bundle of wood. He had stood towering in the doorway, glaring at them to ensure that they did not dawdle. Ashara had laughed then too and pointed out that it was behaviour most unworthy of a Kingsguard. He had shifted his glare onto her then but now he laughed with her, a light laugh which did not last near as long as her low, musical one but nonetheless, this was more cheer than he had displayed in days, weeks even.

"Laugh all you like dearest sister, you are better now and I will tolerate any amount of laughter and humiliation to achieve that." His voice still held the laugh which had faded away mere instants before and Ashara smiled back at him, laying a reassuring hand on his arm.

"You worry too much Arthur, it was just a little cold and while I agree that I complained more than was necessary, I did not let it stop me from spending the day with Elia, did I?"

He laughed a true laugh at this, long and mirthful, before rising and offering her his arm.

"It was Elia who sent me to fetch the servingmen and see the fire lighted for you- in her words you were _morose _the whole day long and clutched at your head in agony when some poor bard started singing The Bear and The Maiden Fair. She said you were moaning that it was too loud and that your head hurt- she was worried." As he said the last part, the knight's face became solemn and the biting retort which Ashara had been about to deliver died on her lips.

She had regretted her trip to the edge of the gardens almost as soon as she had made it for the usually pristine place had smelled worse than the murky alleyways of Fleabottom. King's Landing had been washed clean but all of its filth had swept into her beloved ocean.

"I am sorry I went down to the bay in the rain- I won't do it again," she murmured, knowing that she sounded like a scolded child but that was what Arthur needed to hear and so she went on "I miss the sea, brother, I miss Starfall."

Her voice had faltered as she uttered the last words and she was almost sure that he had not heard but he slowed as they approached the sweeping staircase which led up to Elia's chambers and to Prince Rhaegar's.

"I miss it too, Ashara. The waves crashing down on the base of the Palestone Sword, the crests gleaming in the starlight, Mother singing to little Allyria high in the Silverwall Tower-"

"You sneaking into the armory to gaze longingly at Dawn like a boy seeing his first woman, while I took advantage of your preoccupation to go swimming in the moonlight," she interrupted and as she said the words, she felt that the air had gotten lighter again and the shadow which was a memory of Starfall had faded.

"Elia will be glad to see you well," Arthur said, looking down at her fondly, his tone softening as he spoke of the Princess- as it always did when he spoke of her. Ashara wondered at what had happened in the water gardens when Arthur and Elia had been children- she wished that she could have been there too, that she could have seen her brother and his Princess when they were young.

There was a certain wistfulness to that notion, a quality which it shared with nearly all of her thoughts and actions in the past few weeks- when Maester Symond had declared that Elia was strong enough to ride. Nearly two years had passed since Rhaenys' birth and Elia may have recovered significantly but she was still but a shadow of her former self.

"It is I who should be worrying about Elia's health. Arthur, you know she cannot do it- you must talk to Prince Rhaegar," she spoke hesitantly and softly but she could see the hardness taking its place in his eyes again and his arm stiffened underneath her hand. It was a different darkness that settled over them now- the ever-present gaze of Elia's loving brown eyes and the absent viper sharpness of Oberyn's coal black ones.

She fixed her eyes on him and watched the thoughts flit across his face but they had reached the carved mahogany door to Elia's rooms by the time he opened his mouth to speak and so kept his silence. Elia could never know what Ashara was trying to convince her brother to do. An involuntary shiver ran through Ashara's frame as she imagined Elia's anger. No, she did not want to be on the receiving end of the blazing wrath which she knew Elia of Sunspear was capable of.

Thoughts of the only time she had seen Elia lose her calm played in her mind but they became incongruous and faded away the moment she entered the room and saw Elia herself sitting cross-legged on the golden Myrish carpet in front of the fire. Rhaenys played a little distance away with the little black kitten which Arthur and Rhaegar had brought for her only a week back. She had been delighted with her present and named it Balerion, which had made Prince Rhaegar laugh.

Elia looked up at them as Arthur and Ashara entered and her smile transformed her into a dazzling beauty.

"Ashara, I am glad to see you so well- I had been hoping that you would accompany me to lunch with Her Grace."

Ashara smiled back at Elia and sat down on the floor beside her before answering, "Of course, my Lady- I would be honoured to assist you in any way you wish."

Elia began to protest the way she had been addressed when Ashara began laughing and then she joined in for a few seconds. Ashara could remember the time when Lady Barbrey Rykker- new to court at the time- had uttered those exact words barely a week since her arrival. Coincidentally, the sentence had been used in reply to Elia's request for Lady Barbrey to deliver Maester Symond's news to Queen Rhaella.

"You shouldn't poke fun at Elia's other ladies, sister. One of them may let their jealousy get out of hand and try to have you assassinated," Arthur chided but Ashara could see the twinkle in his lilac eyes.

Elia laughed again at this but her laughter ceased almost instantly as she spoke, "He is right, Ashara- you should not be so quick to laugh at them. Not when a fair number of them would like to claw out your beautiful violet eyes _which shine like the stars on a sultry summer night_."

The levity of Elia's statement was lost in the laughter which followed. Ashara's cheeks shone red with embarrassment for she could still remember the tourney at which Ser Barristan Selmy had uttered those words.

She was broken out of her reverie by Arthur preparing to leave the room.

"I will stand guard outside until Ser Jonothor arrives- Ashara is not to leave the Keep," Arthur bowed to Elia and left, closing the door behind him. Ashara wished that the way Arthur's gaze lingered overly long on Elia was a figment of her imagination.

"I see Arthur took my request rather too seriously," Elia addressed Ashara with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Yes, Elia, I had to promise him that I would not play truant. There are times when I think he believes I am still the green girl who wanted to dive into the sea from a third story window in the Palestone Sword just to see how much deeper she could go. The fact that nigh on six years has passed seems to make not a whit of a difference to him."

"He is right though dearest Ashara. That was an irresponsible thing you did yesterday and I was most concerned, as were Rhaegar and Uncle Lewyn." Ashara sat up straight at this last piece of news and her face took on an excited expression.

"Prince Lewyn has returned from Sunspear?" she asked, her eyes shining.

"He brought letters from Doran and gifts from Oberyn- a pair of sand mares await us in the stables." Elia was smiling again but this time her smile held a hint of sympathy- something which Ashara could not stomach.

She felt as if her insides were churning and her heart would leap out of her chest at any moment, Oberyn had sent her a sand steed. Ashara could remember the feel of his lips on hers and the roughness of his hands as they ripped away the Myrish silks she had been wearing on that remarkable day, two years past. She drew a deep, shaky breath, all the while aware of Elia's soft brown eyes watching her. If Oberyn had sent the sand mare, it was a sign that he remembered too.

"I am sorry we cannot visit them now," was all she said when she finally trusted her voice enough to speak without it breaking halfway through her sentence. Elia said nothing about the redness of her face or her uncharacteristic reply and Ashara was grateful when she suggested that they find time for an excursion to the stables later as they should not keep the Queen waiting.

Yes, there were many reasons to be grateful for Elia, Ashara thought as she stooped to pick Rhaenys up.


	2. Rhaegar: The Beginnings of Chaos

**Disclaimer: I don't Ice and Fire, GRRM does.**

**I've been posting this story on Archive of Our Own as well, and I update on that site more regularly so I'm sorry for the delays.**

**Reviews (and criticism) are always appreciated. A huge thank you to those of you who have already reviewed. **

**Rhaegar: The Beginnings of Chaos**

The growing unrest which Rhaegar Targaryen felt each passing day was reflected in the way he paced back and forth next to the long, polished mahogany table in the dining room of Queen Rhaella's chambers. It was an unrest that had only been heightened by the words she had uttered only moments ago. It seemed as if they still echoed in the sumptuous room.

"_We have no other options, my son. Your father must die. You have to take his place."_

Rhaella herself sat at the head of the table, her violet eyes following Rhaegar's movements, and seated next to her was Prince Lewyn Martell whose gaze rested upon Rhaegar as well.

When Rhaegar finally ceased his marching and sat down at his mother's right opposite Lewyn, his expression had become solemn. He had not missed the way his mother's eyes had darted about the room earlier as she spoke, lingering on the many tapestries which lined the walls. Rhaegar suspected that she was scared of listeners who would spring from hidden crevices in the walls and drag her to his father, declaiming her to be a traitor.

In his childhood Rhaegar had watched Aerys spend small fortunes on colourful oval rocks. He would have large fires built and set the stones in them, declaring that they would hatch to reveal marvelous dragons- dragons twice the size of Balerion, the Black Dread. They could have fed the people of Fleabottom for decades with the money Aerys had wasted.

The crown prince had known even then that this day would come, when he would have to dethrone the mad king Aerys, his father. It was a truth which had haunted him as much as the destruction of Summerhall- equally tragic in nature.

Rhaella had tried her best to shield Rhaegar from his father's mad escapades but she had not succeeded completely. Her luck had been better with Viserys and it held even now, after the passage of six years. Rhaegar's younger brother truly believed that Aerys was a great king who was much loved by the smallfolk. Rhaegar pitied Viserys but he also loved him and wished to spare him the pain of discovering the truth about their father.

Rhaegar knew that his family could not withstand the terrors of the mad king for much longer but he wondered now as he had many times before if the smallfolk were affected at all by their king's insanity. For the disturbance he risked bringing upon them by planning to depose his father would be great and all of Westeros would tremble for it. Rhaegar hesitated not because he was afraid of his father but because he was scared of the effect the Game of Thrones would have taken from the isolation of castles and great keeps and played on actual, bloody battlefields. It was this sense of remorse which had held him back for this long.

"Mother, you are certain beyond doubt that the time is right?" he asked, his voice as soft as hers had been when she was unfolding her plot.

"Of course, Rhaegar. Varys' reports would seem to indicate that my brother is hoarding wildfire in the dungeons under the Red Keep. He spends so much money on the alchemist's guild that the gold in the royal coffers has been reduced to half of what it was during Aegon V's rule. I dread to think on what he intends to use all of it for."

Rhaella had scarcely finished speaking her piece when Prince Lewyn took up the thread. Rhaegar turned his attention to Elia's uncle but he did not miss the way Rhaella looked at the knight of the Kingsguard. His belief that the paramour whom Prince Lewyn supposedly kept in a luxurious manor near the Dragon Gate was merely a ruse to cover something much more dangerous in nature was strengthened.

"Doran will not come but he will send Oberyn, and the people of Dorne hold Oberyn in the highest regard, as they do Elia." Lewyn smiled reassuringly but Rhaegar felt that the smile was more for the Queen's benefit that for his.

Rhaegar fell silent and his gaze rested on the door, almost he wished that Elia would arrive for her lunch with the Queen so that he would not have to take any decisions yet. Almost, but no, this was his duty, his responsibility as Prince of Dragonstone. As he lifted his eyes towards his mother, his resolve was strengthened when he noticed the bruise on her right shoulder.

"Prince Lewyn, would you speak with Ser Oswell Whent? Ask him to pay a visit to his brother at Harrenhal, I would rather the tourney was held there than at Storm's End. I will write to the Lords of the Great Houses."

"Of course, Rhaegar. I would ask though- why Harrenhal? Why not Storm's End?" Lewyn had risen to his feet as he asked his question and Rhaegar considered for a while and returned a slight smile before answering.

"There has been a tourney at Storm's End too recently- Aerys' suspicions will definitely be aroused. Harrenhal is big, and its location central. It will be perfect for the greatest tourney Westeros has ever seen." As he spoke, Lewyn's eyes widened significantly before his expression returned to normal and Rhaegar realized that he had referred to the mad king by his name instead of as his father. Immediately, he looked towards his mother to gauge her reaction and he saw her flinch. Yes, Rhaegar thought, it was time he stifled any affection he may have felt for the man he had once called Father. For Rhaella's sake, for Elia's and Rhaenys', for Viserys, and for Westeros.

When Rhaegar's attention returned to the present and the inhabitants of the room, he saw that Lewyn's gaze was directed upon him, scrutinizing him. Rhaegar gave him a brisk nod- a clear sign of dismissal- which Lewyn returned before turning and exiting the room. As Rhaegar turned to address his mother, he could hear voices in the corridor outside. He concentrated and heard Elia's mellow tones, Ashara's silvery laugh and Arthur's low one sounding in response to her words. It would be best to wait until later to discuss his concerns regarding the plan with the queen. He did not want to worry Elia- not when she had only just recovered from Rhaenys' birth.

Elia entered soon after, a smile on her face and a spark dancing in her usually calm brown eyes- she was obviously in a good humour, as were the other two. Arthur had a wide smile for his closest friend but Rhaegar saw that regardless of her high spirits, Ashara bestowed only a small smile upon him. There was much anger in her eyes- an emotion which he had grown to expect from the beautiful violet- eyed maid. Ashara loved Elia as a sister and Rhaegar knew that she saw some of his actions towards the Princess as slights.

Rhaegar rose to draw a chair for his wife beside his own and helped her into it as she murmured her thanks before resuming his own seat.

"How is dear Rhaenys today?" Rhaella asked after a few moments had passed in silence with Ashara almost glaring at Rhaegar and Arthur actually indulging in a glare at Ashara. So Arthur knew what was troubling Ashara about Rhaegar's conduct this time, did he? That was most interesting. Rhaegar's mouth twisted in amusement, he would have to question Arthur later.

"I left her with Lady Barbrey and Viserys, he seems to adore that black cat almost as much as Rhaenys does. They were asking Lady Barbrey for bits of ribbon to tie on its tail when we left," Elia replied. Rhaegar reflected that Elia and Rhaella were really rather similar- they would not talk of the spectacle Aerys had made of himself the day before, nor the obvious implications which Elia's renewed good health brought with it. No, he thought that they had learned a long time back that it did no good to talk of things which actually mattered. Ashara Dayne had not learnt that lesson yet despite being at court for nearly a year.

A silence fell over their company again halfway into the meal and Rhaegar realized that not even his mother and his wife could keep talking of their offspring forever- there was only so much conversation to be had out of Rhaenys' Balerion and Viserys' first wooden practice sword.

"Prince Lewyn tells me Oberyn has sent new steeds for Elia and you? There will be occasion to put them to use soon, there is to be a tourney at Harrenhal," Rhaegar addressed Ashara, sharing a laugh with Elia as scarlet stains blossomed on the poor girl's cheeks. Even Queen Rhaella smiled knowingly and Arthur was the only one who did not appear amused. Rhaegar only laughed harder at this but he reached across the table to pat his friend's arm in a consoling manner. He supposed that he would be as alert and concerned as Arthur if he had a sister as lovely as Ashara Dayne.

"A tourney at Harrenhal? And when will it take place?" Elia asks once their laughter has become subdued and Rhaegar knows that she is rescuing her friend. If the two had actually been sisters in blood, Ashara would have been the younger, more fierce sister to Elia's older, wiser model.

"Ser Oswell Whent will leave soon to make the arrangements with his brother," Rhaegar replied and understanding blossomed in Elia's eyes. He would have to tell her of the details later but he was glad that she knew what he intended to do. He thought he even saw a hint of relief in her eyes and he felt some of it himself, he could not go through with this without her unfailing support. He needed her, as he needed Arthur.

"Well then, we shall have to hope that this rain stops soon or we will not have a chance to ready ourselves," Elia replies with a smile and there is encouragement in her eyes. Rhaegar can already see her grow stronger and he worries that she will take too much upon herself. His eyes meet Ashara Dayne's across the table and he sees his worry reflected in them.

Rhaegar would speak with Arthur and his sister. They would have to devise a way to keep his wife safe- because for all of her noble, majestic demeanor, Elia Martell was far too vulnerable.


	3. Eddard: Tide

**Disclaimer: All rights to GRRM.**

**Eddard: Tide**

The air was warm and more than a little stuffy. This unpleasantness of atmosphere was only compounded by the fact that the proprietor of the establishment did not seem to know of the benefits of open windows and fresh air. The tavern was packed and appeared to contain each and every citizen of Gulltown who had even the slightest fondness for strong drink or the barmaids who served it. The men laughed and called out noisily to each other or to the various maids who unashamedly returned the cheeriness with husky laughs of their own.

However, the raucous, rowdy state of the large room did not appear to bother any of the patrons except for a man of average height who sat in a corner of the room. His chilly grey eyes were fixed on the contents of the tin mug set on the table in front of him- it was still halfway full. Ned Stark was determined not to drink more than was necessary to keep from being bothered by the unruliness of the tavern. He intended to keep a straight head in order to be able to lead Robert back to their rooms above the tavern once he was too drunk to walk straight.

At the very least he was fairly certain that he would not have to worry about Robert getting involved in a brawl since Elbert Arryn had accompanied them. Elbert was one of the only people apart from Lord Jon Arryn who could rein in Robert's temper. Ned himself was much too averse to the conflict which was involved in even an attempt at controlling the tempest which was Robert Baratheon.

Robert was seated at a bench near the centre of the room, a serving girl perched on each knee. Ned could tell from the way he was laughing at everything the flame- haired one on his right was whispering into his ear that Robert would likely bed her that night. Well, at the very least that would spare him the effort of carting Robert upstairs. Robert noticed him looking and raised an arm, beckoning to Ned.

"Come on then, Ned. How much longer do you intend to _rest _in that corner of yours?" his voice was loud and another indicator of how drunk he was- one which Ned had not needed to know that his friend would soon be in an intoxicated stupor.

Ned grimaced and tried to think of a reply but Robert had already turned away, clearly he had not been expecting one. He wished that it could be the number of empty tankards on the table in front of Robert that worried him instead of his friend's fondness for whores. Robert's face was reddened and his uproarious laughter had risen to a crescendo over the course of the night since Ned had begged off from joining Robert's plans.

They were supposed to be celebrating the end of their time in the Vale with Lord Jon as well as Robert's betrothal to Ned's sister, Lyanna. Ever since the letter had arrived from Winterfell containing Lord Rickard's consent to the engagement, Robert had been increasing jovial and every second sentence he uttered would refer to Ned as his brother. Ned had smiled and returned the favour, he shared Robert's joy at the prospect of the imminent alliance.

Elbert Arryn had been much more subdued, inexplicably seeming to pity Ned. He had not been particularly pleased with the agenda which Robert's celebration had entailed either. Ned felt that Elbert expected him to take offense to Robert's whoring ways.

Ned shook his head to free it of Elbert Arryn's disapproval and returned to staring at his drink, he had never judged his oldest friend before tonight and he did not wish to start now, especially not now when they would become brothers in the months which followed. His gaze drifted involuntarily to Elbert who was seated a few tables away with the remainder of the company from the Eyrie as well some of the local nobility.

Artos Hardyng and Marq Grafton were engaged in a drinking game and a steady stream of serving girls orbited their table, keeping the drink flowing. Ned thought that Marq would likely win; Artos did not have much of a stomach for ale- not when compared with any of the other men at that table. Of course, even he would be able to outdrink Ned who did not care much for such pastimes.

A glance back at Robert showed that he was rising unsteadily to his feet- an arm each around the two girls he had been engrossed in all evening. Ned watched as the trio slowly disappeared from sight onto the staircase at the back of the tavern. He understood now why Robert had insisted on coming to Gulltown. He had suspected before but that was all it had been, suspicion. Now that he had seen his friends' actions with his own eyes, he could not help but feel a little disappointed and more than a little angry at himself.

It would not do to show his anger here though- for Robert was heir to Storm's End and the day when he would come into his inheritance was approaching much faster than any of them had thought. Word had reached them that Lord Orys Baratheon was dead and Robert's uncle Geoffrey would hold Storm's End for Robert until such time as he could arrive and take over. Ned would return to Winterfell which could never belong to him and from there accompany Lyanna, Robert and his brothers to Storm's End for his beloved sister's wedding.

It was Winterfell and Brandon and Lyanna that he thought of as he stood and made his way through the tables and left the tavern, making for the yard where the horses had been picketed. He took to running his hand through his stallion's mane as his thoughts drifted further towards home.

Brandon would be excited about the Baratheon alliance and his lord father must be equally pleased. Ned could not help wondering whether they had seen fit to deliver the news to Lyanna yet. He could only hope that Lya would not be too upset. She was a little like Robert in temperament, Ned reflected. While his dearest sister was never fond of excess the way Robert was, she had a similar wildness about her. Lyanna was a free spirit, averse to any attempts to constrain her…

"Ned, where are you off to, lad?" It was Elbert Arryn who was calling out to him as he exited the tavern and followed after Ned. Ned merely waved and waited for him to approach.

"You see it now, do you not?" Elbert asked as he strode up to Ned and lounged against the stone wall, absent- mindedly fiddling with the plaster in it.

Ned does not have to ask what he is talking about but he wishes that he does. He wishes that he had not talked so much of Lyanna and Winterfell.

"Robert is my friend. He is a good man," Ned struggles to continue, to defend Robert as he usually does but he cannot quite bring himself to say the words.

_Robert saved me. He is a good, honourable man. If I cannot trust him…_

Ned remains silent- he still cannot speak.

"He is a good friend to you, boy. Do you really believe that he will be a good husband to your darling Lyanna? He is not like you. I do not think Robert Baratheon has ever known the meaning of honour."

Ned's eyes widen as Elbert finished his tirade and he knows that he must look foolish, slack- jawed as he is. He has always known that Elbert holds no love for Robert but he has never thought that Elbert had such a low opinion of his best friend. If this was how the Arryn heir felt, he wished he could know what Lord Jon thought.

"He will be different once he marries her, he has promised. She is my sister." Ned repeats the phrase which has been running through his head regularly since he supported Robert's request to marry Lyanna and cement his bond with House Stark. After watching Robert's actions this evening, even Ned can hear the desperation in his words, the need to justify himself.

Elbert's gaze has turned to pity again only this time Ned knows why, and he knows that it is perfectly placed. He sees now that Robert will not change.

"Ned- it is not too late. Robert will listen to you. You only need to divert him from Winterfell- take him south; and when he makes the unavoidable mistake of bedding some highborn lady, persuade him to marry her-"

Elbert speaks confidently but Ned cannot bear to listen, he puts a stop to Arryn's speech with a hasty slashing gesture and calms his harsh breathing before trusting himself enough to speak. He may not be heir to the North but he is still a Stark of a Winterfell and he does not have to listen to Elbert's ill- spoken words.

"I thank you for your concern, Lord Arryn but we will speak no more of this. It is late and we begin our journey tomorrow with the dawn. I suggest you get some sleep."

Ned can still hear the harshness in his words but he cannot bring himself to regret it. So he reenters the tavern and climbs the stairs to his room which is next to Robert's. He falls asleep to the sounds of the Robert fucking his girls and Elbert's words repeating in his head.


End file.
